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Chris Kapot

Author bio:

Born 1975, on the day that John Wooden, in his final game on the sideline, coached UCLA to its 10th national basketball championship in 12 seasons. I know nothing about basketball or UCLA apart from this. It was four days after Fergie of the Black Eyed Peas was born. That makes me feel not-so-old, but it also makes me feel that I should have achieved more by now. It was three days before Monty Python and the Holy Grail was released.

I puked a lot, went to school, came off my bike, survived my parents' divorce, broke my toe, swam in mountain tarns and rode some roller-coasters. I was kind to people and mean to people, and people reciprocated. I dated girls and kissed girls and was hurt by girls and broke at least one heart I think. I wrote poetry and rowed boats. I suffered depression and failed to get a degree. I acted in plays and succeeded in getting a wife.

I got a job, not for the first time, and this one led to a five year mini-career in customer service and finding that still, after two promotions, I was a small cog in a big wheel designed to make money largely for other people at the expense of the public. I rode buses and played computer games and board games and role-playing games. I left my job to become a preacher.

I loved my wife, and love her still, and pray God I always do, not just in the 'I feel like I love you' way but mainly in the 'I choose to love you and lay down my life for you' way.

I sang karaoke and went to art galleries and swept snow off the street in the village where I have now settled with my wife and a large collection of bibles and dragons.

I've started Nanowrimo before. Once. One other time I thought about it. Neither time resulted in a novel, or anything close. I spent several days during November 2011 feeling more tired than committed and nearly gave up more than once. This is very rare for me. Generally I give up the first time that the thought occurs to me. "Here's hoping though, it would be good to achieve this!" I wrote at the start of the month. I somehow managed to carry on, whether it was hope or desperation or pig-headedness I do not know, but I quite quickly fell behind anyway.

Then on 30th November 2011 I wrote 15,500 words through the day, finishing thirty minutes before midnight which took my main character exactly to the end of her story (for now) and took me a couple of hundred words over 50,000. I had won NaNoWriMo 2011. It was a bloody good feeling!

...oo0oo...

Then there was Christmas, then there was Easter and then two kids came to live with my wife and me; a two-year-old girls and a three-year-old boy.

Ever since then it's been a bit of a blur, but a mostly very lovely blur.

So, seventeen days to go and I only started to think about NaNoWriMo today, and I haven't had a single thought about what novel to write yet. Last year I started writing on November 1st and characters appeared and a story told itself, albeit through my inexpert words. This year if I survive telling my wife that I'm thinking of doing NaNoWriMo again this year, I'll probably... er, well, actually I have no idea at all what I'll write or how I'll go about writing it.

Life on the edge. I love it!

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